


And Then?

by elare



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elare/pseuds/elare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid draws, okay? Like how some people read or religiously swear or knit or other kinds of fuckery habits, Sid prefers to silently mock every stupid fuck in school, ogle the hot boys and draw.</p><p>It's a good life.</p><p>Until her system is thrown so far off course (it was probably somewhere in Nigeria contracting Ebola) by a gorgeous boy with pale skin, dark eyes (they're like cadbury and cinnamon, i wanna lick 'em, Sid whined) and lips more pink than the scarlet lollipop he laved at. Sid very nearly moaned at the sight.</p><p>Drawn in and intrigued by his cryptic comments, his frequent absence on particular days and eyes that flashed with his moods, Sid's life is toppled as she dealt with with high school shenanigans, art competitions and maybe even a little bit of unrequited love.</p><p>She doesn't truly understand the severity or maybe she does, and is willing to risk it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then?

**Author's Note:**

> Original Work.
> 
> Disclaimer: This belongs to me, all characters are of my doing, do not post this work on any other network including but not limited to fanfic.net, livejournal, quotev etc.
> 
> All Rights Reserved. Any plagiarism can and will be fined.
> 
> This is probably the only work that i will post out of fandoms and tropes.

"Saudah, oh _my_ god! If you're gonna occupy the bathroom from my time of birth till my children are born at least do it when i don't have a major pee on board!" Sid banged against the door frustratedly.

"Mother mine! Control your child." She huffed with a whined, pressure on her bladder making her squirm.

"Saudah dolly, are you quite done?" Mrs. Ballim tapped sharply. The door swung open, Saudah was beaming and donned denim overalls.

She was so lucky her school didn't " _require uniforms as it set a steady point of uniformity among racial and religious segregation_ " and while the black pleated skirt, maroon blazer and white blouse was cute, Sid didn't quite appreciate being ordered what to wear.

And the skirt was rough and scratchy in some places. _Eugh_.

She glared at her older-but-not-oldest sister and stomped into the bathroom.

 

Mondays _fucking sucked_. Mondays _fucking sucked_ harder when it was the first day at a new and unfamiliar school.

Maybe if she flashed her smile, tossed her hair and enquired politely, she would be allowed to kill herself. She sent a quick but heartfelt prayer to Jesus, "Have mercy please, bro. I was promised an S4 for my birthday and if i'm stuck in this hellhole I at least want cute selfies." She crossed herself and braced for the onslaught of the day.

 

 

•

•

•

_Siddiqa_

 

"Now please remember Sid, this is-" Mom began.

I sighed and glanced at the digital watch on my wrist, only 7:48 and I was already eleven ways done with this day, life and planet.

Hmm. Perhaps a tad dramatic but teenagers were allowed to have their artificial problems, it was odd to meet a youth who wasn't theatrical and exaggerated their issues. ( _She got more Instagram like than me? We posted the same picture! I'm so depressed!_  or  _bro i spent a couple of hours in the gym this morning where the fuck is my six-pack?_ )

 

It was practically a rite of passage.

 _See?_ Again with the overdone statements.

 

"I know, I know, Shireen. This is a _new_ start, with a chance at _new_ things, to have a good life. Gimme caffeine." I called her mother by her name because I was sassy and did not conform to the norms of society.

I was nothing like a typical white girl.

… except for the Starbucks because that shit was good. Speaking of, I made grabby hands and a sad expression at the vanilla mocha-chino until she passed the capped cup to me with another encouragement to " _really give this place a chance_ ".

Bl _ah._

 

I nodded placatingly as we entered the parking lot of Callaway Academy and found a spot next to a Vintage Mini Cooper, I very nearly drooled. See? Nothing like a white girl, psht whatever you can't prove anything.

We both admired the brickwork before noting the time and hauling ass to the office. I stopped short, taking in the mahogany desk, linoleum floors and cherry oak of the overhead lights.

 

Yup, definitely a step up from burglar-guarded windows and literal danger-tape-as-fences.

It certainly seemed as if their bathrooms had locks and toilet paper, unlike the previous sub-standard public institute I was given the honor of attending.

 

Unwillingly enthralled by the silvery reflections in the mirrors and grudgingly excited at seeing the "Ice Rink →", I sternly berated myself.

 

My pulse quickened at the prospect at watching skaters twirl and axel and salchow jump and capturing the elegance and grace of each smooth flash and loop and flip, I could paint and sketch and draw and outline, joy swept through me and I reluctantly allowed a smile to grace my dainty and pretty features, softening the stern lines of annoyance and easing the hard scowl.

 

My mom chatted up the secretary who looked professional with a tight bun and coiled tank. Damn. If my previous school's secretary (a depressingly drab woman with a monotonous voice and a dull appearance) came to a head with this assistant, I had no qualms about who would kick whose ass.

 

After a few moments mom muttered her thanks and turned towards me, i was awkwardly standing there looking all the lost child I was.

I snatched the paper with a neatly printed _Siddiqa Ballim: Junior Schedule_

 

I rolled my eyes at the _Guidelines and Rules_ booklet.

Like fuck I'd use that for anything but lighting a fire as a distraction to make my escape.

"You'll be alright baby?" Mum looked like she was thinking about springing the waterworks and guilting me into actually _giving this place a chance._

I took a deep breath, more as a prayer for patience, _'Jesus, I am determined to take cute selfies before I get hauled into prison so I need that S4 for my birthday, and in order to get that phone i have to **not kill anybody so please grant me patience** , please oh lord have mercy yas, thanks man.'_

I brightened my eyes and tried to look optimistic with a quick nod, "Definitely, oh, and don't forget to feed PomPom."

Mom scrunched up her nose against the reminder, the last time she had forgotten to feed her, PomPom had meowed obnoxiously and refused to be in the same room as her for a couple of days.

Mom kissed my cheek and then she was gone.

My smile dropped and the gloom overtook me again, i checked the time, 8:05.

 

First period had already began, oops, I shrugged, too late now, i might as well just skip.

I glanced around furtively, the guilt sliding off my back like water on a duck.

 

I wandered through halls and passages, past classrooms and quads until I stumbled into the Ice rink and grinned, _finally_.

 

I sat at the bleachers and checked my Instagram feed before grabbing my spiral notebook and outlining a rough sketch of a pair of sneakers.

A few teenagers were messing around on the ice and shouting insults and laughing, I slackened into the atmosphere and fell into a trance of smudging and shading.

Just as I was reaching for my pastels, contemplating the swatches of ivy and indigo and their contrast, my shoulders twinged and i realized i'd been working for hours with my neck and back craned. I smiled as i allowed myself to relax for a few moments while my muscles loosened up and allowed me to work more freely.

 

There's nothing quite compared to aches after hard work and long hours of constant effort and labor.

Much akin to a writer spending consistent hours on their story, spider-webbing different ideas and exploring character growth, gaining fatigue and calluses, breaking their sleep for concepts that strike them in the deepest of slumbers but it's all worth it when all of those threads knit a tragedy or heart warming story that other people may be able to love. 

I breathed the cool air and tugged the blazer tighter around my shoulders, losing myself in the slide of metal across ice, the faint sound of laughter and instructors correcting forms.

\---

Sid knew objectively she wasn't unattractive, with her pale golden blond hair that curled like a halo around her paper white complexion that was steadily becoming tanner, her beauty spots that accentuated how milky her skin was, she had an elegant bone structure and a tiny figure, she didn't flaunt it but she was aware that if push came to shove, she could exploit her fairy-like qualities.

 

Sid liked those cheap and addictive chips, the kind that left red dust on your fingers, KitKats ("that's just because you _always_ want to take a break Sid" her friends would laugh and tease) and books that were melancholic. Needless to say she adored TFIOS purely based on Gus dying.

 

Her friends said that she liked tragic books because it made Sid treasure her life and health more, but that was just them trying to justify her obsession with awful endings in books and movies.

 

She liked the angst and the bitterness, in actuality because it gave her escape, it enabled her to break free from the suffocation of her life and slip into a morecomplicated one that involves domestic abuse, or the grief of losing a child or the unhappiness of an arranged marriage whilst in love with another.

 

It made her issues and problems seem small and minute, it equipped her troubles to be able to be dealt with because it was miniature compared to killing your husband, it was a healing and dealing factor.

 

A coping mechanism, if you will.

 

\---

 

Hours later, satisfied with the illustration but not completely delighted with the irregular strokes in the right hand corner, I tugged a filing sleeve out of my binder, signed my name and dated the piece before packing up, pausing the instrumental playlist and taking off towards the Library→.

 

The library was nothing short of wonderful, comprising of airy and open spaces and high shelves and for god sakes _movable ladders_ to grab novels at the ever top ledges.

I felt the breath rush out of me in a rush, I immediately walked to the glass planes on the walls, the windows were beautiful, it allowed the sun to filter through which made the oak floors catch and dust particles drift and gave the huge room a soothing atmosphere.

 

The library overlooked the evergreen garden, dewy grass and soaring birds, fountains of water and thorny shrubs.

I drifted through the genres, pulling out something entitled _A Song Of Fire and Ice._

 

Huh.

This sounded interesting and i could definitely use the distractio-

"Do you watch GOT?" a voice startled the book out of my hands and I watched in mute horror as the pristine hardcover tumbled to the floor but a hand reached forward and snagged it a literal inch from the ground.

 

My eyes snapped up and _woahh_ , I could _so_ get on board with this school if all the students looked like that. But wait, my face scrunched, I would have serious body-image issues if i were constantly surrounded by faces like that, was it even fair for guys to have such sculptured cheekbones?

 

They were _male_!

_What did they need defined cheek structures for?!_

 

I sniffed indignantly before flushing, realizing the guy was still staring at me expectantly.

"Uhh- I- what?"

 

He looked annoyed now, "Do you watch Game of Thrones?"

"What's that? Is it recent? What happens? Is it interesting? Well i would assume it would be interesting if you're still watching it, I mean, what's the objective of watching a nondescript and boring show right? Is it fictional? Does it have vampires? Is it cliche?" my brow furrowed curiously, I'd never heard of it.

 

He rolled his eyes, looking especially irritated, "Ugh, so many questions. It's like speaking to a toddler."

 

I flushed, angry at his words, "Don't initiate a conversation then asshole," i hissed, "if you're too idiotic to carry it out, simple questions evoke use of brain activity and it _really_ isn't that difficult to decipher why you can't answer enquiries, do you have muscles and blood in your brain or stupidity?" I shot him a look that could have very well chilled molten lava and shoved past him. I walked out of the library, swinging the door shut, irked.

I strolled through the gardens, finding a spot beside a tree, an small alcove big enough for a couple of teenagers and leaned against it, letting the midday sun warm me, the weather had been chilly in the morning and I wasn't quite adjusted to the high temperatures.

 

With the leaves rustling and the earth beneath my fingers and the wind caressing my open locks, I dozed off.

________

"Oh c'mon Grey, really? I was _joking_ , you look stunning with that dress, i swear- i- what? No! Awh dude- i'm sorry! Listen- ugh, fine then!"

My eyes snapped open and i swiveled around to see the library guy, shifting awkwardly and glaring at his cellphone.

A tall girl with long open hair that curled till her lower back, looking to be around my age stood next to him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed at him.

Not really feeling the desire to be within a 3 planet radius of the dick i huffed and grabbed my flung satchel.

Their eyes found mine and I glared at him, "You changed your clothes."

 

That was at least an hour ago, library now wore a maroon shirt and swapped his black jeggings for a pair of grey slacks.

They both raised a brow and the girl walked forward, "Hey man, i'm Saj." I shook her hand, it was cool to the touch and soft.

 

She yelped suddenly and jerked back, I arched a brow quizzically and she had the grace to look sheepish.

"Your, um, your claws- I erm mean _nails,_ scratched me." she cradled her wrist at her chest and I laughed with an apologetic shake of my head.

 

I adored my long nails and refused to cut them, i'd only actually trim them.

"I'm Jaime." the guy waved and I stared stoically back.

"Oh, _oh_ , ohhhh. J, she thinks you're Jace!" she, Saj, gestured towards his attire, "That's why she said you changed your clothes."

Both their vaguely confused expressions cleared.

 

"Dude, i'm Jaime, I believe by your expression you've had the pleasure of meeting my twin brother Jason. We dress differently and also, he has piercings." Library-guy's-apparent-brother- _Jaime_ shook my hand and now that he had pointed it out, I could make out the subtle differences.

"Real pleasure that was." I snorted derisively.

Jaime spoke with a faint lisp and his nose wasn't quite as straight, his hair a few inches longer and slightly tanner.

 

"You have an accent," I realized, "What is that though? British-? No, not quite…maybe European somewhere." I studied him curiously, I couldn't place the inflection.

"It's South African, actually." He clarified.

I realized I hadn't introduced myself and went pink, "I'm Sid."

 

"Cool name. On behalf of Jason, we'd like to apologize for whatever it is that pissed you off. Allow us to make it up to you." Saj pulled an Aqua Haze hookah pen from her backpack and settled herself beside me, Jaime produced a cartridge of flavors and asked me, "Apple, Coffee or Tequila?"

I snatched the pen from Saj and the shell of Tequila liquid from Jaime, I studied the potency for a moment before shaking my head and fishing out my own canister of Vodka-on-Ice to the glinting rays of the sun.

My Cheshire cat smile broadened and I beckoned them forward, "Come forward, younglings and let me demonstrate a mixture and method to get _properly fucked_ on a Shisha."

"This is the start of something beautiful." They chorused.

_______

 

_And then Sid threw all inhibitions out the window, her eyes roved over the two teenagers both ridiculously attractive and insulting and snarking. With the wind at her ears and the sun as her witness and the damp earth and her charcoal imprinted fingers, right in that moment then, Sid thought she could tolerate this. Maybe even tolerate it and be…dare she utter the words, even in her mind? Be happy._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are welcome!
> 
> *subject to hiatus*


End file.
